My Stylish Bump.....a blog i kept through out my pregnancy, chronicling my vain attempts to dress my bump stylishly, am now a very proud mummy to a little girl, minus the bump and just about finding my way around this whole parenting lark

About Me

Monday, 23 January 2012

Hot, cold, warm, cool, chilly or toasty , I am not fussy, it's all about the numbers for me, I am unabashadly obsessed with the temperature, the source of this daily complusion i have put down to the introduction of a thermometer to our bedroom.
With the arrival of our little baba came a little baba monitor, complete with digital temperature gauge, from the moment I switched it on, it became what they call my idee fixe, a fascination with the digits before me, knowing the exact room conditions to the nearest degrees celsius is my new party trick, I also like to announce it when I get into my car, which luckily also has a Temperature sensor, it's the last thing I check before I go to sleep and the first thing I check if my baby wakes up.

As all mums will know babies are particular little creatures, they need to be not too hot, not too cold to be comfortable and sleep well, not to mention the safety aspect, so I am happy if the double figures show me anywhere between 17 and 20 at bedtime, anything below that and I am deeply troubled, I fear my little girl maybe nesh like her mummy, her sleeping patterns of late have been akin to that of a new born, frequent waking, random yelping and general restlessness, it has been a trying time, i was under the impression at the ripe old age of 7 months she would be achieving the holy grail they call "sleeping through" so along with testing the hunger theory, cold had to be a contributing factor. As anyone who had experienced baby induced sleep deprivation will sympathise with, you would do anything to try and coax/encourage your little one to sleep for a solid 8 hrs, if Tilly wanted to listen to Nessus dorma whilst bathing in ass' milk I would arrange it in a jiffy, if it helped her sleep from 7pm - 7am!

My fear now is that my protege may already picked up my interest for all things measured by mercury, my distaste for luke warm tea is mirrored by her turning her button nose up at milk any cooler than room temperature, and likewise her puree, to be fair I wouldn't eat cold vegetable mush, so warming it is the least I can do, it's like master chef in our kitchen each mealtime, her taking a mouthful of food, me waiting pensively for the verdict.....usually indicated by a wrinkled nose or a gurn, both of which I ignore and continue to feed her regardless, but you can't blame the kid for trying!

Friday, 13 January 2012

I innocently opened my diary earlier this week, (a paper diary may I point out, despite being the proud owner of a shiny new iPad to organise my life on, I am a nerd and prefer to keep an old fashioned diary up to date with holidays and high days) and there it was staring menacingly back at me....Friday the 13th, an unpleasant date and the first of 3 in 2012.

I am not the only person to think so, the number of horror films dedicated to this heinous date indicates to me it's a common theme. The number 13 isnt popular at all, I almost feel sorry for it, if the number 13 were a creature it would be a scowling, unsociable, snaggle toothed runt with poor hygiene, no wonder it inflicts Ill feeling wherever possible! Fear of the number 13 even has its own name, triskaidekaphobia, a perfectly valid phobia it transpires, based on the number of hotels without a 13th floor, or streets without a No. 13, I certainly wouldnt want to get on a plane and be sat in aisle 13, seat 13, luckily lots of airlines ignore the existence of poor old number 13 too.

The day it's self doesnt bother or effect me so much, it's more the build up, I would put it in the Same high risk category as April fools day and mischief night, neither of which I would wish for as a birthday ( I have a particular dislike for mischief night since my teenage self and friends were set upon by pubescent boys with "fart gas" on the bus home, my new Benetton coat never quite recovered, nor it seems, did I)

So this coming friday the 13th i won't be locking my self in, Although you can safely say i have no plans for air travel, anything unfavourable that does happen to me I will categorically be blaming on the date, be it a broken nail, a ladder in my tights or even burning my toast..damn you Friday 13th...until next time!

Friday, 6 January 2012

My Christmas wardrobe this year involved very few sequins....(unless you count the ones on my mother Christmas hat...I decided if I was going to wear a silly hat to greet my Christmas guests, It was to be a shimmering red velvet one covered in ruby sequins trimmed in white fur, topped off with a white fur Pom Pom, I dont do Christmas hats by halves, a word of warning to those thinking of donning one next year, periods of prolonged wear leaves freshly washed hair looking like Rab C Nesbitts thatch, greasy and dishevelled, perhaps reindeer antlers are a better option, I bought the boyfriend a set but he didn't quite get into the spirit as I'd hoped, donning then only for a picture, then carelessly discarding them in the magazine rack, damn waste of £1.99!!!)

As i was saying, sequins were all but off the menu for me this festive season, partly because i my christmas nights out were fewer and more far between than the years BT (before tilly) and largely because embellishments of any description are not baba friendly, especially babas who have grown their first peggie (bottom left Incisor, much to my disappointment I was hoping for a top snaggle tooth, so I could call her nanny mcphee, but I've had to settle for jack russell) as she likes to chew on and bite anything that doesn't belong to her, particularly necklaces and buttons, so I have had to make yet more ammendments to my attire, chunky necklaces only, with nothing sharp or detachable, and after the guilt of seeing the imprint of the neckline of my dress pressed into Tillys cheek (I assure you this was a very temporary scarring) I no longer wear anything that could even possibly scratch, mark, maime, or choke, In short I have extended my risk assessment to my wardrobe, rendering even more garments for after 7pm wear only, I have actually considered purchasing overalls, much like mechanics wear ( i would of course have my initials embroidered on) as they are so baby friendly, having a few all in one colour would cut down on my washing too, bonus point!)

Christmas day itself saw me cooking for 11 people (2 of whom were babies, but 9 doesn't have the same wow / sympathy factor does it?) so I chose a very practical and comfortable outfit, a navy waffle cotton tunic top worn over black skinny trousers ( some may call them leggings but i wouldn't want you to confuse me with a member of little mix, and there was no thinning of the denier on the rear thigh and bottom area, so they were technically a trouser, but I can't bring myself to use the name treggings) although it didn't really matter what I wore, as the boyfriend bought me a pinny to complete my transformation into his very own Nigella ( a far more prudish nigella without the generous bosom)

The nights out I did have we're a pleasure to dress up for, I made use of the (rough/dangerous to babies) sequinned biker jacket gathering dust in my wardrobe, donned heels past the height I deem safe to carry Tilly in (Victoria Beckham is surely the only woman able to carry a baby in 5" heels? Does she have a flunky with goalkeepers skills on hand for any mishaps?) and skinny jeans that i refuse to kneel to change a nappy in for fear of knee pad abrasion, off I went into the night.

Now January is upon us, it's time to remove the comedy padded stomach, ahem, dust off my workout gear, and revel in wearing 100 denier tights for as long as possible, before spring has sprung and it's time for bare limbs to make an appearance..Happy New Year and wish me luck!